


upon waking

by mamawerewolf



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Injury, Major Character Injury, episode rewrite, gretel lives au, minor gretel/maia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9416162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamawerewolf/pseuds/mamawerewolf
Summary: Clary wakes up alone; Jace wakes up with Gretel. Both are determined to fix things.





	

When Clary woke up, she was alone. Her throat ached and her nose was full of the stench of saltwater. Patting her pockets, she found her stele and her ruined cell phone and some crumpled paper. Whatever it once said was lost to the bay. It was pitch black, the moon illuminating the water.

Her first thought was for Jace, her second for Dot. She stumbled to her feet, scanning the shore for her brother. Dot would have to wait until she could get reinforcements. Right now, she needed to make sure Jace hadn’t drowned.

Minutes of walking turned into hours. She paced the shoreline, then the parts of the city closest. Eventually, she had to admit temporary defeat. Try as she might, Clary was only one person, and she didn’t know Jace well enough to know where he might tuck himself away when on the run.

So, she went to the Institute.

The building was full of shadowhunters chattering and arguing and planning. The training area, which had been sparsely populated when she first visited the Institute, was full of sparks and twisting bodies and grunts and barked instructions. Izzy and Alec were nowhere to be seen.

Before she could worry, she was accosted by her mother and Lydia.

“Clary,” her mother began, but Lydia cut her off.

“Aldertree wants to see you.”

Clary ignored her mother, allowing Lydia to take her to Victor’s office. Lydia squeezed her shoulder briefly before the door opened. Clary nodded to her. Everything was still groggy, as if she were underwater. Things happened quickly, then slowly, then quickly again.

The time before Aldertree’s interview was in slow motion.

He allowed her to change in private. Her old clothes clung to her, though they were dry, with salt coating them and making them stiff. She had to strip out of them, and for a moment she could pretend she had gone on a beach trip with her family—her mom, Luke, and Dot laughing and splashing, spreading out on towels under that big pink umbrella Dot claimed was from a little store in the UK, eating sandwiches with ham and cheese and mustard—but it was only temporary. When she peeled off the last piece of clothing, it was like she’d destroyed the last vestiges of her fantasy.

Her new clothes weren’t Izzy’s, and that hurt more than it should. Instead, they belonged to a stranger, smelling like store-brand detergent and plywood. Still, they were clean and around her size, so she pulled them on, building her resolve with each new layer.

Aldertree would not get anything out of her. They would not hurt her brother.

When she was dressed, Clary took the brush and found a reflective surface, tying her hair up with the ponytail she’d had around her wrist. She used the little white towel to brush the blood off her face, wishing she’d be able to take a shower but knowing that time was precious.

After she was as presentable as she’d ever be, she opened the door and told the guard outside that she was ready for Aldertree.

The interview was relatively painless. He served her tea, which she accepted gratefully, and he asked her what happened. She lied, claiming memory loss. He tried to present himself as an ally, and Clary couldn’t help but wish she could trust him. Lydia turned to their side, so why couldn’t he? Because the almost had been too great. A man had almost been tortured for information. Izzy had almost been deruned. And Clary didn’t forget Victor Aldertree also making that threat to Izzy when he’d first arrived.

He had no choice but to let her go with the answer she gave, though he clearly didn’t buy it.

Clary hurried out of the office and into the main room of the Institute. Her mother intercepted her, clearly apologetic, and Clary demanded to see Isabelle.

“I just wanted to find you.” Clary’s stomach ached. Was that what she had sounded like to the shadowhunters, to Jace and Izzy and Alec, when she’d come to their home spouting demands?

(Dot’s face, harrowed and pale and covered in little black lines, shone in her mind like a beacon.)

Jocelyn led her to where Izzy and Magnus stood over Alec’s prone from. Isabelle had bags under her eyes and her hair was unkempt, as if she hadn’t been sleeping. Magnus looked even worse, sweating and tense and hands shaking as they glowed.

“Magnus,” Clary said softly, unsure if she could afford to tell him about Dot when he so clearly needed the focus but unwilling to be a hypocrite. “Magnus, I saw Dot.”

His head snapped up. Isabelle moved to take Clary out of the room, but he stopped her with a look, his eyes yellow and catlike. He nodded to Clary, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.

Voice shaking, Clary continued. “She’s alive, but she’s with Valentine, so I don’t know how much longer that’ll last.”

Isabelle looked at Magnus, then at her brother. An unspoken agreement passed between her and Magnus like lightning. Wordlessly, he turned back to Alec, redoubling his efforts. Isabelle left the room, taking Clary’s arm, and Clary let her lead her out.

“Where’s Jace?” Isabelle demanded, eyes searching over her, and one of the many lines of tension in her frame eased.

Clary explained what happened as best as she could as quickly as she could. Isabelle in turn filled her in what was wrong with Alec. They began to plan, but Clary’s phone rang. It was Simon; his mother was missing.

She and Izzy looked at each other, Izzy’s brown eyes full of worry and sorrow. “I’ll look for Jace while I’m out,” Clary promised, and Izzy nodded, pressing her painted lips together. Clary pressed her hand against Izzy’s in a silent ‘thank you’ and took off down the hallway to meet Simon.

Clary didn’t see Izzy sigh, looking up to the sky for guidance, willing her tears not to fall.

 

 

When Jace woke, it was to someone nearby choking on sea water. He rolled over, blinking his swollen eyes against the light of day. Next to him was a young woman, soaking wet silver hair obscuring her face as she retched.

“Gretel,” he whispered, throat so dry it stuck to itself. “Gretel.”

She looked up. “No,” she moaned, making to move.

“Gretel,” he said again, holding up a hand. “Wait. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

When he didn’t move towards her, she laid down against the sand, hand curling over her bloody stomach. Slowly, he crawled over, placing a gentle hand on her arm and stroking her hair out of her face. She was crying, eyes lidded.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m going to get you help.”

“No hospital,” she gasped.

“No hospital,” he agreed. “Do you know where I can find your pack?”

But she didn’t answer. Shock, he thought, shaking his head. Duh. He wished his shirt was dry and clean so he could make a bandage. As it was, he knelt and picked her up, carrying her bridal style and hoping she didn’t lose more blood.

“Hey, is everything okay?” A strange person’s voice rang out. He looked over his shoulder. Some mundane jogger slowed to a walk, making towards them.

Gretel’s head nodded against his shoulder. Jace stood up, looking back at the concerned mundane, who was pulling out a cell phone. They would call the police, which might bring Luke, but it also might bring Circle members or the Clave. He tightened his grip on Gretel and ran, ignoring the mundane’s suspicious “Hey!”

Once he got into town, he found a closed up building and kicked down the door, wincing as he jostled Gretel. Setting her down on a table, he barred the door, searching his pockets for his stele but finding nothing.

“Shit.”

Carefully, he searched Gretel, finding her useless cellphone and a couple credit cards and a soggy wad of cash. He set the useable one a chair next to each other and threw the broken on the floor.

Jace knew he was running out of options. He didn’t have his cellphone on him, not that it would work now, and he didn’t have Luke or Clary or even Simon’s phone numbers memorized. He couldn’t take her to a mundane hospital; none of the blood they’d have would work anyway and her wolf-healing should be kicking in now anyway. He could take her to Magnus, but there was no guarantee Magnus would be home or that he’d even let him in. The Jade Wolf was too far to carry her injured, and they’d draw too much attention without a concealment rune.

He’d have to leave her.

“Gretel.” He said softly. “Gretel.”

She shifted, opening one eye to glare at him.

“I have to go get help. Do you have anything of a pack member’s on you?”

She didn’t acknowledge him at first. At first he thought she was too far gone to be able to answer him. Then, slowly, she reached up to her neck and pulled out a necklace.

“Maia,” she croaked.

“Maia,” he repeated, smiling and nodding. “Good. I’m going to take it so I can find her, okay? And I’m, I’m gonna hide you from the door.”

Carefully, he slid the necklace off her, lifting her head as much as he dared. Clenching the necklace in his fist, he picked her up and set her behind the counter, checking carefully to make sure she was hidden from view. He tried to stand, but she took his hand weakly.

“Why?”

Jace sighed. “Because it’s my job. And I-I did this. To you. And I’m sorry.”

Gretel dropped his hand. “Hurry.”

He nodded tightly.

It killed him to leave her without protection, but he wasn’t going to let her die.

The necklace—Maia’s necklace—was a simple grey moon pendant on a black chord. It was probably made of nickel or aluminum since he couldn’t see a wolf wearing silver. After he closed the door behind him and checked to make sure no one was looking, he cleared the guilt and anger and anxiety from his mind. An orange shimmer wrapped around his clasped hands and he felt Maia’s presence.

It took him seven minutes to find the bar Maia was at. He burst inside. The patron’s barely looked up at his entrance, while the bartender merely quirked her eyebrow at him and smirked.

At least, she did at first. Then her gaze locked onto his first, or, more likely, the necklace he carried. She vaulted over the counter, eyes glowing green as she snarled.

“What have you done to Gretel, shadowhunter?” She spat. The other patron’s stood up, all baring their teeth at him.

“She needs your help, Maia.”

That seemed to surprise her. She sniffed him, blanching. “She’s injured.”

“Yes.”

Maia breathed heavily, glaring at him suspiciously but standing down. Her eyes shifted back to their normal dark brown. “How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

“She needs you. Valentine stabbed her.”

That seemed to settle any debates Maia was having. “You two,” she called to some wolves, “with me. Everyone else, stay alert. Someone call Luke. Tell him not to alert the Clave or anyone else if he can help it.” She turned back to Jace. “Lead the way, shadowhunter.”

The four of them made their way as quickly as they could afford without being spotted. Jace sighed a breath of relief when they found the door still lodged in.

Maia ran over with super-speed to the counter, falling to her knees. “Gretel, my love!” She covered her mouth with her hand, her hard demeanor falling.

“Maia,” Gretel whispered happily, voice raspy.

The other wolves, a tall black man and a shorter Filipino woman, seemed to relax their stance next to Jace until he made for leave.

“Where are you going, shadowhunter?” The taller man snarled.

“Let him go.” Maia ordered, not taking her eyes off of Gretel. “He has done enough.”

Jace felt the bite of her words and knew that Maia knew he had something to do with Gretel’s current state. He didn’t bother her with apologies or empty words. She was right. He didn’t thank Maia either. It was clear she didn’t want it. And his brother still needed him; the agony of their Parabatai bond hadn’t faded, he’d just been ignoring it for Gretel’s sake.

 

**Author's Note:**

> yo so i know nothing about medical anything and also gretel's a werewolf so idgaf... also this is unbeta'd so if u see a mistake lmk
> 
> i decided i wasn't satisfied with how parabatai lot went so here u go. also some of the clary and her mom stuff is *handwave motion* so lmao
> 
> this may or may not stay a one-shot
> 
> come talk to me about gretel on doctorlightwood.tumblr.com


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